


One picture led to another

by Scandiaca



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, UST, ginger!lock, mastrubation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scandiaca/pseuds/Scandiaca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written with a stranger on Omegle. John gets some very interesting pictures from Mycroft. And Sherlock gets some interesting insight, too. Starts off with messages, leads to porn. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One picture led to another

_You know, sometimes your annoying brother is really rather helpful.  JW_

I find that quite hard to believe. SH

_But it is true. Say, where do you colour your hair? I have never smelt anything in our bathroom. JW_

I will throttle him. SH

_It's just funny. Such uncalled for vanity. Really, the pictures... you looked happy in them. Most of the time covered in mud or something like it, but happy. Do you have freckles, too? JW_

Drop it, John. SH

_Not a chance. JW_

John if I had freckles don't you think you would have noticed them? SH

_Well, yes. But you keep rather covered up during summer. And I haven't seen you truly naked yet, have I? JW_

Yet, John? SH

_Well... I mean... with your track record and... So. Mind if I put some up around the flat? The one with you in a pirate costume is really adorable. JW_

I'll be throttling you next. SH

_Empty threats, Sherlock. And I really don't get it. Mycroft gave me that one picture of you in Uni. You looked ho... nice, you looked rather nice as a ginger. JW_

Don't you have a better way of spending your time John. Patients or blogging, or whatever it is that you do besides worrying about something as tedious as my hair colour. SH

_Well, not if it turns out you are actually a bloody hot ginger. JW_

_Scratch that! I meant... bloody hell. JW_

How easily your heterosexual facade crumbles. I wasn't aware you had a thing for gingers. SH

_I never said I was heterosexual, Sherlock. And.. well... I didn't either, you sodding git. JW_

Interesting. SH

_So you are not getting that picture back. Ever. And I will find a way to keep you from recolouring. JW_

Sorry John, as much as you'd like to have your fantasy turn reality I am keeping my hair just the way it is. SH

_We will see about that. You seem oddly calm about my little... crush? Don't worry, I know you are married to your work. That's part of why I state that "I'm not gay" thing everywhere. JW_

John. If you haven't noticed I'm a bit keen to picking up little, or in this case colossal hints about people. SH

_I see. So again... I am not going to start anything. Take it as... well... a compliment? JW_

Which part? You liking my hair colour or you actually liking me? SH

_Both. JW_

So you don't intend on doing anything about the latter, then? That's not usually what people do, is it? SH

_Well, you are not usual, are you? You made it quite clear sentiment isn't your area. JW_

I appreciate that. But now, I'm curious. SH

_[delayed response] What? Sherlock, this is not an experiment! JW_

I am aware. You always get touchy when I try that. I am just genuinely curious. SH

Is that wrong? SH

_No, it's.... not wrong. What... what do you want to know? JW_

What is it, you find attractive about me? Besides the hair, of course. I'll admit this is quite a new experience. SH

_You... I...sodding git, you are intent on making me flush like a bloody teenager, aren't you? What do I find attractive about you? How about everything? Your sodding lips, they are honest to god cupid bows, your neck... I can't seem to look away from it and well... you have to know how bloody hot your arse is. Not to mention you are an incredible genius who still looks like a 5 year old child when he sulks on our couch. That might not be hot, but bloody endearing anyway. And your voice... god your voice. JW_

You've thought about this quite a lot, haven't you? SH

_Oh, how could you tell?... Git. JW_

_Oh, and our height difference. That really shouldn't be as much of a turn on as it is. JW_

You sound like a teenage girl going on about some telly star, John. SH

Not that I'm complaining. SH

_Sod off. I have hormones. And seeing as you successfully chased away any promising female relationship I have had in the past year, no wonder I get even more fixated on you. JW_

So you're saying you're lonely and horny and that it is my fault? SH

_Look, a genius at work. JW_

Deepest apologies. SH

The question now is what to do with this information. SH

_Well, I am going to go to a pub tonight and will try to find myself a male date. God knows I need to stop fixating on you. And you can go back to musing how silly and simple we normal idiots are. JW_

You shagging other men. Doesn't seem like a good idea, somehow. SH

It also doesn't seem like something you would do. Unless you said that on purpose. SH

_What? No I... look Sherlock. After everything I told you just now... it got me a bit... well I am a bit distracted now. I need somebody to take the edge off. Afterwards, we can go back to me silently lusting after you while you ignore it in favour of more important things. JW_

You're important.. You don't think so? SH

_For your work, yes. Conductor of light, I remember that. That is why I need to take the edge off now. JW_

I can't say, I agree with you shagging some fellow while thinking about me. SH

_Can't say you have a vote in that, Sherlock. It is either that or pursuing you. JW_

Tell me what you're thinking about, John. SH

_I... you know that I will never be able to look you in the eye again after that? JW_

Now you're just being overly dramatic. SH

_That is rich from you. JW_   
  
_This is going to be bloody weird. JW_   
  


_I think... I think about coming home, finding you in one of your posh suits, and then slowly stripping every part of your long body, touching and tasting as I go.JW_

_I think of kissing you until your amazing brain is quiet for just a moment, finding out if I can make you moan just from massaging your head. JW_

_Then I will search you very thoroughly for freckles, making sure you realize how much I adore every single one of them. JW_

_And finally:  I will see if I can't find a strand of ginger hair on your body after all. JW_

You're always full of surprises, John. SH

 [no answer]

John? You haven't died of embarrassment yet, have you? Not when I'm on my way home. SH

_You... what? No! I need... I now desperately need to take care of something. Give me a bloody hour to get myself back together. JW_

I've already unravelled you, have I? That was easier than expected. SH

Ten minutes, John and I'll be home. SH

_NO! Sherlock! I know you don't do such things but I... I might not be able to stop myself from trying something when you come here now. Please, just... leave it alone! JW_

 [no response]

_God, Sherlock! I am begging you. I can't leave the flat like this! JW_

"Then don't leave." Sherlock gave a shrug of his shoulders as he stepped into the flat, already tucking his mobile phone back into his pocket. He wasn't really sure what he was doing himself, showing up when John had asked him to stay away. He felt a pull and a sensation that he couldn't tack a name to and now here he was, the corner of his mouth turning up when he spotted the other man.

John was basically hunched in his chair, legs spread wide in a rather vulgar fashion as he desperately cupped his crotch as if to keep himself in check.

"Sherlock.... what are you doing?" he panted, face flushed red and eyes half closed.

His eyes wandered over the lewd sight before him, seconds passing as he took in as much from the view as could.

"You can't say I didn't give you fair warning." There was a smile in his voice but he didn't proceed any closer, instead choosing to watch from the threshold of their flat and keep his distance. "I never thought I'd see you looking like this. It's quite...surprising."

"God..." John breathed, his head falling back towards the chair back, exposing his throat as he swallowed hard. The hand not busy taming his stiff prick was pressed into the armrest, hindering his body from acting (much more) without his consent. Still, that voice. That bloody dark voice paired with its nearly unreal owner... There was only so much John Watson could take at the moment.

"Why are you here, Sherlock?" he demanded to know, closing his eyes against the inviting sight of his flatmate.

He took a few steps forward, still keeping space between the two of them like an invisible barrier but he could see more at this distance. His gaze lingered on John's bared throat, the way his chest moved as he took deep breaths that were surely meant to calm him and that clearly weren't working. And of course the hand between his legs that seemed to have lost it's shame.

"Make a deduction, John." he spoke low but clear.

As much as it shamed the doctor to admit it, but he could actually hear himself whimper. An army doctor, a bloody good shooter, too, and he had just whimpered. God, could this get any more embarrassing?

Probably, because as his prick started throbbing with the rhythm of his heartbeat, John couldn't stop from massaging it, building, feeding the pleasure which hadn't been that urgent in quite a while.

"I... " he started, half lifting his head back up, but his eyes were too hazy to really observe anything. When had he been that turned on by simply retelling his fantasy? John couldn't remember.

"I can't... god, I am sorry... but I need to..." Well, that was as much warning as Sherlock would get. Without another word, John pulled down his zip, fixating on his genius as much as he could, while his hand started stroking.

The whimper didn't go unnoticed by the detective and without thinking he found himself having to clear his throat and shift on his feet to regain his thoughts. This was a rare sight and one he might not ever get to see again, and Sherlock refused to miss any second of it by letting himself get put off track.

"No need to apologize. This is something you've wanted, isn't it?" his head tilted slightly to the side as he openly observed him, his eye roaming wherever and however long they wanted to.

"No... I... I told you what I think about." John answered, somewhat calmer now that he had allowed himself the touch. The blogger could feel the orgasm building inside himself, a goal he knew how to reach as he knew his body.

Tugging his pants down a bit, the doctor finally freed his prick and balls, giving the later a slow fondling, groaning deeply. God, it felt so surreal. Pleasuring himself while Sherlock was there watching. Detached. Unaffected. But that fact actually pulled him back from his mindless state of arousal a bit.

"This... is what I do... after... pleasuring myself to your image. Because you would never..." Still, favourite fantasy or not, John was getting close. And he had a hard time concentrating any more on his words. Moans grew loader, sometimes a "Yes!" or "God!" slipped out. Still, the doctor bit his tongue. Willing himself to not to use the other's name.

Sherlock looked rather pleased for a second, carefully listening to his blogger’s words and the way he said them along with all the little gasps and moans in between. He took his time and appreciated them, saving them in a little compartment to pull out another time and study a bit more in depth if the want ever presented itself. The soft thud of his footsteps on the hardwood floor was the only sound for a moment as he made his way around to the back of the arm chair, finding himself interested in the new angle it gave him.

John heard the footsteps. For all he knew, Sherlock was finally bored and would leave him alone with his shame. When he suddenly felt the other rather close behind him, breath creating goosebumps on his neck, John nearly jumped. The doctor moaned, body subconsciously pulling itself closer to Sherlock. John even arched his neck towards the delicious feeling of hot breath paired with a deliciously deep voice.

"It's not that I would never and it is not that I can't, I've just never had the urge and it seemed unimportant. " the genius watched John's face for a fleeting few seconds and then bent down, lips dangerously close to the shell of his ear. "You can say it if you'd like, John. I know you want to, it might as well be written on your face in bright red marker."

One hand was still tightly clawed into the arm rest, but John wanted to do nothing more than press Sherlock closer with it. And God, the detective was actually towering over him. Taller than him, so much... taller. "GOD.....Sherlock!" he groaned, giving in. "Sherlock... Sher-" he chanted, hand moving faster, precum slicking up his length so his hand made wet sucking noises while going up and down.

The sound of his name leaving the doctor's lips sent an unfamiliar tingle down Sherlock’s spine and he sucked in a sharp breath, not daring to let a single noise past his lips. He knew nothing about this, what John really wanted from him and how he should proceed but he wouldn't give up the control he so obviously had at the moment.

"I could get used to that. The way you say my name like that, all needy and wanton." he kept bent over, leaning forward so his cheek was practically flush with John's, peering intently at the busy hand and cock before him.

John pressed his head against his flatmates face the best he could. Sherlock's curls felt nice against his skin, like they were supposed to brush him, supposed to be that close. John moaned, his mumbled chants of Sherlock's name growing less intelligible by the moment. Still, Sherlock was here, and at least the face of the genius seemed as hot as his own.

"What does it feel like? Knowing I'm watching you like this and I know what you've been trying so desperately to hide?" he made a soft, pondering noise in his throat as continued to keep his gaze fixed.

John was desperate for release, feeling the pressure rise with the other man's words, but at the same time, this wasn't his first intense experience. While the doctor did admit to nearly loosing his head and mind a few times (as really good sex tended to be), there were moments of a more calm fashion too, as John could feel himself moving steadily towards his orgasm.

"Bloody fantastic, Sherlock. Knowing... ah... that you are here... and you UH... don't know half of what you doing. Do you like my react- mhmm, do they turn you on? Sherlock..." he panted, but his voice had a low quality to it, something a bit more... taunting, as much as a man approaching a mind blowing orgasm was able to be.

"Turn me on, John?" the words sounded a bit odd leaving his lips but he couldn't help but smile "I'd imagine something to the effect, yes. You're quite alluring like this. I'd be lying if I said otherwise." His breaths had deepened his own hands were clutching at either side of the back of the armchair to keep himself steady and sure even as he turned his head, causing his lips to brush the corner of John's lips.

"I do wish I knew what was going on in your head right now, what it was you'd like me to do in a situation like this one." He knew the mechanics of it all, but this was the closest the man had ever found himself to sex and he couldn't help but feel a little tense even as his growing erection pressed annoyingly at the front of his trousers.

"God..." John panted, head turning as his lips searched for the other pair, and their electrifying touch. Breathing against Sherlock's mouth, the doctor wasn't too sure how long he was going to last. John started massaging the sensitive head of his prick, the glands and the small pressure point directly under them. Moaning loudly, he felt his body shaking slightly, trashing from side to side as it seemed to fight against an early end.

"My head is swimming, Sherlock. All... oh god.... all I can think about is you... what I want to do with you.... where I would touch you... how you could react. But I can't... I am sorry.... I... SHER.... I can't stop now." the army veteran explained, breathe and lips brushing against his flatmate's face. "Kiss me... please... just... kiss me," he pleaded, hips starting to rotate in rhythm with his strokes.

He'd never heard John so desperate and even if he hadn't been asked for the kiss, Sherlock figured it would have been inevitable. There were no more words exchanged, instead it all lips and teeth and heat as Sherlock captured John's mouth with his own. The thought of kissing his flat mate had never truly occurred to him, but now that had seemed a silly thing not to do as he felt the kiss consume his thoughts.

John purred all of the sensations and frustrations he felt at the moment into his kiss. The doctor couldn't possibly tell his flatmate all that was happening to him in this intense moment of pleasure, but he was determined to give something back. Using his lips, tongue and teeth he plundered Sherlock's mouth, one hand finally drawing the man closer by fisting into his mop of hair.

'Brilliant' he thought, 'extraordinary'... 'fascinating' and finally, as if in conclusion, a small, hopeful part of his mind whispered 'mine' before everything went a bit white around the edges.

John started coming, and it felt like he had been holding onto it for hours and not just mere minutes. The pulls through his prick were delicious, and his scream was swallowed by his detective's mouth as pleasure finally overtook.

The army doctor had all but melted into him as their lips locked, and he parted his lips to let John have more access to his mouth. Their tongue brushed and tangled and before he could stop it a deep moan escaped him, his hands now sliding over John's shoulders and down his chest. Sherlock was now all but draped over him.

"John...." he breathed his name, fingers bunching up the fabric of his shirt as he finally pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes, their gazes meeting."Good, I'll take it...?"

The army doctor caught his breath, looking up to find a very handsome consulting detective still close enough to send small aftershocks of pleasure down his spine. Instead of an answer, he growled, using both hands (one of which was rather... slick) to pull Sherlock over the chair back right into his lap, giving him another deep kiss.

Now, he made sure to map every part of the man's mouth he could find, fighting the impulse for breathing as long as he could. Finally, John leaned back a little, hands still firmly planted on his flatmate's arse, kneading. "Yes... bloody brilliant, in fact" he grinned, still bathing in his afterglow.


End file.
